


Booth Surpasses Biological Imperative, Or Occam Is A Chump

by leiascully



Category: Bones
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-28
Updated: 2009-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm glad you wore a skirt today."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Booth Surpasses Biological Imperative, Or Occam Is A Chump

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Hypothetical S5  
> A/N: For [**coffeesuperhero**](http://coffeesuperhero.livejournal.com/), who suffers mightily in the throes of law school and yet still finds time to read things over for me.  
> Disclaimer: _Bones_ and all related characters are the property of Hart Hanson, Kathy Reichs, 20th Century Fox, Josephson Entertainment, and Far Field Productions. No infringement is intended and no profit is made from this.

Brennan barely has the door closed and locked before Booth has his arms around her and he's kissing the nape of her neck from behind. She grins and pivots, her arms settling around his neck with an easy familiarity after the last few weeks. He smiles back and kisses her hard; she returns his kiss as the hunger for him surges up in her. He is a more than adequate sexual partner, she thinks. Of course, when she told him this, in a vulnerable, sweaty, post-coital moment, he made that face: exasperated, affectionate, perplexed, lustful, lovable Booth.

Now he has his hands up her skirt squeezing her thighs and she nips at his mouth, urging him on. She unbuckles his belt and shoves her hand down the front of his jeans. He's hard for her and she smirks as she kisses him. It may be a biological response, but she loves knowing that she does this to him, makes him swell and breathe hard and strain toward her just like he's doing now. His belt buckle knocks against her hip. She leans into his mouth, her tongue sliding across his, and he clutches at her legs, pulling her thigh up over his hip. He's making that growling noise that sends a sizzle up and down her spine, because somehow when she's in his arms, his alpha male act turns her into extremely willing jelly.

"Wait wait wait," she says, breathless. "Is this tender baby-making sex again? 'Cause I know you were upset last time when I laughed at you when you were looking deeply into my eyes or whatever it was you were doing."

"Naw, baby," he rumbles, "this is the hot desperate up-against-the-door-because-we-can't-wait-another-minute sex. Jesus, I'm glad you wore a skirt today."

"Mm, not the door," she says. "The paneling is really uncomfortable."

"How about the fridge?" he offers. "Gives you something to hold onto."

"As long as I don't end up holding onto the ice maker again," she grins as she slips under his arm and drags him across the room by his tie. He stumbles out of his jeans on the way. His coordination makes him a prime sexual partner, she thinks fondly. Between that and his strength, he has managed to surprise her with the ferocity of her own hunger for him. She daydreams about him all day at work, even when she's beside him. Even now, when he's in front of her, kissing her as they shuffle across the kitchen, the flashbacks she has to their other encounters are almost enough to make her weak in the knees. He kicks off his shoes, sheds his boxers, and strips off her panties, almost in one move, and she congratulates herself again on her choice. They fumble together with the layers of her skirt while Booth makes exasperated noises and she nearly snickers at him. Finally all the fabric is hitched up around her waist, a fluffy brown ruff that doesn't keep his pelvis from fitting flush against hers as he pulls her thigh over his hip again and guides himself in. They both sigh.

"This just gets better every time," Booth says in that raspy voice that drives her wild.

"Statistically, that's sensible," Brennan tells him. "The better we become accustomed to each other, the more efficiently we can pleasure each other."

"You know, that habit of yours, explaining everything, that used to drive me crazy," Booth says, cupping her breast in his free hand.

"And now?" she asks, arching her hips up.

"God, it drives me _crazy_," he hisses, and nips the side of her neck. She wriggles against him, grabbing his ass and pulling him closer until he groans. "Efficiency...never knew it could be so hot."

"Mmm," she says, her breath coming in gasps as his thrusts push her body against the cold metal of the fridge. She grabs for the handle of the freezer; the door pops slightly open and shut as they move together but it's better than no leverage. "Better chance of...impregnating me...as well."

"Can't wait," he says into the hollow of her shoulder.

"Strengthen our bond," she pants, holding him as close as she can with one arm around the layers of their clothing.

"Pretty strong already, sweetheart," he whispers into her ear, and ducks around to kiss her. She smiles against his mouth, letting his tongue slip past her lips, reveling in his touch. She wants her skin against his, all of the endorphins and the sociological significance of nudity, the immediacy of his body unhampered by fabric. She wants the heady bliss of his particular scent, the way it hits her pleasure centers and warms her whole body. Booth slides in and out of her and his pelvis rubs against hers and it's so good that it triggers her nerves and makes her leg shiver where it's wrapped around him.

"You make me so wet," she whimpers. "Good sign."

Booth just groans, thrusting deeper until her back arches and the pressure of his body and the fridge are the only things holding her up. His mouth slides to her cheek; both of them are breathing too fast to kiss, but he presses his lips to the corner of her eye and her cheekbone and nuzzles his nose against her hair. When he moves inside her, the feeling is incredible, the way he comes into contact with all the parts of her that are crying out for his touch. He's right: it was good the first time and it's been mind-blowing ever since, so good that she can't help crying out as he bucks hard into her, murmuring endearments and nonsense. The pleasure surges up in her, spreading through her body like a flood, almost too much for her skin to contain.

"Oh God," she pants, "oh, Booth, yes."

Her body shakes and he groans again and keeps going, grunting a little with each thrust, and she can feel him gritting his teeth by the way his jaw tenses against her cheek. She can't stop shivering, each move stimulating her until her body isn't flooded, it's on fire, almost too much, but he's saying her name, holding her so close she can feel the thud of his heart, and he growls out a prayer and kisses her until neither of them can breathe.

"Oh, _yeah_," he says. He collapses against her.

"My legs won't," she says.

"Don't worry," he gasps, wrapping his arms around her so that she's not flat against the fridge door. They slide slowly to the floor together, chests heaving.

"You said God," he teases.

"Metaphorical," she explains in short breaths. "Socio-culturally significant, not theologically."

"If this is what it takes to make you a believer," he jokes.

"Maybe later," she says, breathing between the words, "we can try that...tender thing again. I promise...I won't laugh."

He chuckles. "My girl's unstoppable."

"Yeah," she says, touching his face. She catches herself caressing his cheek with the backs of her fingertips: it's a gesture that marks deep intimacy and caring. He always does surprise her with the things he shows her about herself. "Yeah, I guess I am."

He kisses her forehead. "Just let me catch my breath. Then it can be just as tender as you want. Maybe after some dinner, though - gotta refuel."

She snuggles up to him on the cool, uncomfortable linoleum, pillowing her head on his arm. "Sounds great."


End file.
